"They begged. They pleaded. They told me how they'd use it EVERY day. How our house would become THE place to hang out. We had a hot tub. And a basketball court. And a fire pit. And a hammock. But if we had THIS, well, we'd be rock stars."

Here, Maney refers to his three aforementioned wonderful kids -- his self-proclaimed "Irish triplets" -- who are now 18, 16, and 14.

He bought the trampoline two years ago for them, sort of as an apology after his family relocated to Wellesley from Chicago. The kids weren't happy, and he tried to make it up to them.

Maney explains this in the ad:

"Plus since I "messed up their lives" by moving them here in middle school, I owed them at least this much. God, dad."

So, it seemed like a good idea.

Besides, in the outdoor space which would eventually become the trampoline's quiet home of sadness and neglect, the previous homeowners had left behind a play set.

"The kids were too old for that already, and the dog kept pooping in the sand box," Maney told me. "I knew it had to go."

The ad continues:

"So I caved. And I bought it. And I built it. And that first night they jumped."

Faintly bouncing 'round the spring-loaded backyard injury machine.

THEY jumped. Maney, in fact, did not.

"Are you nuts? You know how dangerous those things are? That's got torn ACL written all over it."

Next, the ad gets rather sad and sentimental. He wrote:

"Then I watched from my window as the summer turned to fall and the fall turned to winter and the flurries came down and the snowmen went up and the rain came down and the flowers came up and spring turned to summer and I watched even still from the window, waiting, just waiting, for someone, anyone, to use that damn trampoline even once more. Oh, please, please, just once."

At which point Maney's brief poetic aside comes to an abrupt stop:

"My kids suck."

Maney drove this point home, telling me that he wasn't even sure if any of his kids had been on the trampoline in over a year. Maybe just him when he swept off the leaves to take pictures for the ad.

Which concludes:

"So after two years of sitting in my window staring out like a creepy old neighbor, I am selling it to make room for gardenias or tomato plants or a stockade jail to house three grumpy teenagers. Haven't decided yet."

The trampoline sold in less than 24 hours.

To avoid future situations like this, try poking around the official Reddit support group for being r/childfree.

Which, of course, was great.

But the reactions he got online were ever better.

Maney says he received about 100 e-mails from people who enjoyed his trampoline ad, and about 20 more from people who actually wanted to buy it.

His ad was on online hit.

"I've worked in the advertising business for 20-plus years and never had a piece of content go truly viral," he said. "I write one Craigslist ad..."

Now he's had a taste. And it feels good.

In fact, Maney's thinking of seeing if lightning can strike twice.

"I'm scouring the house looking for that French horn. My Kids Suck, Part 2."

The other day I saw a death metal band hanging out by their tour van in the parking lot behind a club. They were all dressed in black, and may or may not have been working on lyrics to a new song about fire and lamb meat.